The Pouting Stool
I was sitting on the edge of the bed, waiting for my beloved to arrive. I knew I shouldn't have gone back to that bar again, but my taste buds kept telling me to go back and have beer. Well, one beer led to a few too many and that also led into a fight. Now I sit with a bag of frozen bag of peas on my black eye and a fat swollen lip. If only I’d obeyed Trayton. I had been told under no circumstances was I ever set inside that bar again.
Turning around, I looked towards the corner where a stool sat that says ‘sit your naughty bottom here’.
Turning back around, I see Trayton standing by the bed and in his sternest voice 'he said, “Up!”
I sit now on that stool with a bare bottom, sore from the paddle that lay on the bed as a reminder of what will happen if I was at the bar again.
Forty-five minutes later, I see Trayton by the door. With tears of remorse and a nod of approval from my beloved, I run to him as we both hug.
Then in a firm voice, Trayton said, ''You are so grounded.” With a smile on his face, we both hugged each other again and I knew I was forgiven.